


Ballad of the Wandering Maiden

by RobberBaroness



Category: Fallout 3, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, Fallout Kink Meme, Folk Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:33:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lonesome Drifter sings a song of love and murder in the Wasteland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ballad of the Wandering Maiden

"Sing me a song," she said. He didn't know the woman except as a presence at the bar, just another blonde in a casino full of fancy girls. There had been several in the audience during his performance, but this was the first to approach him afterwards; his minor brush with celebrity wasn't quite enough for women who could have their pick of Chairmen. The Lonesome Drifter put down his glass of whisky and gave the strange woman a smile.

"Seems to me I gave you more than one song this evening."

She waved at him dismissively.

"A better song. All those numbers were so sad, and without much in them to be sad about!" She placed her hand on his leg, and he made no attempt to remove it. "Why don't you try harder and really break my heart?"

You met girls like this sometimes as a singer. Girls who come on strong when it isn't really you they want but your music. They leave you once they realize you're more than just a sweet voice; a man with fears and weaknesses and boring habits, who thinks about things besides romance. Girls who end up breaking both your hearts.

At least this one said what she wanted up front.

"I know a few murder ballads, if that's what you want. Old stuff, about highwaymen and jilted lovers."

"Nothing old! I've heard them all before. Can't you sing me something new?"

The Lonesome Drifter cocked his head, wondering how much the woman had been drinking. Maybe she was always this demanding, drunk or sober. If he ever made it big, he would have no time for girls like her, nor would he sing at all when he wasn't being paid.

But for now, he was still small time. He leaned in close to the strange woman, and softly- quieter than the music piped through the bar, forcing the woman to lean in as well- he began to sing.

_"Oh wandering maiden, won't you sit by my side?_   
_Such a lovely creature should not have to roam._   
_I'll give you a mission, and if you agree,_   
_My love will be yours and my fortress your home._

_Oh wandering maiden, this town has grown old_   
_No hope for its people except that they die_   
_Your pay will be handsome, the wasteland renewed_   
_If you start a blaze and leave no one alive..."_

The tune wasn't very original- there was a little bit of Twa Corbies in the sound of it and a structure inspired by Henry Lee. Then again, folk songs were never entirely original. It was almost more authentic if it it was patched together from bits and pieces of other songs, held together by pretty words and sordid crimes.

_"It's true that I wander the wasteland alone_   
_But I've heard it said that my father stayed here_   
_I cannot wish death on a town such as this_   
_Please spare it, if you'd call this maiden your dear!"_

"It's pretty!" said the blonde girl, giddy on drink and music. The Lonesome Drifter put a finger to his lips, though, and she quieted back down.

_"Oh wandering maiden, I am a cruel man_   
_I've met many people, and I've done them ill_   
_I've known many lovers and done what I pleased_   
_But you are the first one that I cannot kill._

_Wait for me, my maiden, I'll send for you soon_   
_And there in my mansion you'll live by my side_   
_If you'll have a devil to be your own man_   
_Then I'll take you home and I'll make you my bride."_

The Lonesome Drifter was no actor, but he did his best when singing about characters. His voice for the wandering maiden was soft and gentle, while his voice for the cruel man was deep and smooth. It was a voice that the blonde seemed to find enchanting, and he couldn't blame her. The cruel man had to be seductive, or there would be no reason for the maiden to love him.

_"She heard what he said and she left the saloon_   
_The wandering maiden knew what she must do_   
_Her heart full of love and her mind full of fear_   
_She went to the Sheriff and told what she knew."_

He slowed his voice down, drawing out the words of the final verses.

_"The cruel man was shot down at twelve o'clock noon_   
_Laid low in the streets of the town he would burn_   
_He died with a tear and a whisper of love_   
_The maiden, she saw this, and she cried in turn._

_"I'll wander the wasteland and call no place home_   
_I'll live by myself and I'll be no man's wife_   
_For though he was wicked, I've sent to his death_   
_The man that I'll love for the rest of my life!"_

The Lonesome Drifter was quiet at the end of his song, waiting for the blonde's response.

"It doesn't make much sense," she said. "Why would she love a man who she hardly knew? A man who was clearly insane?"

"That's just the way the story goes," he replied. "Love doesn't have to make much sense.

Neither did music. People feared death, but they loved to hear it sung about. Maybe when the war against the Legion was over and done with, he'd find things to sing about amid all the death any battle would cause. Or perhaps not- tawdry murders are more fun than battle scenes.

Though he bid the blonde goodnight, the ballad stayed in his head. When he went to sleep, he dreamed of towns on fire, men dead on the road, and a woman who walked by with the saddest eyes he could have imagined.


End file.
